Bla bla bla

[nooj]

For many centuries, Gascon, a variety of south-western Occitan has had a great influence on Basque, and we have borrowed many word of this language. Occitan and Catalan are very close languages, and it is for this reason that we have so many words in common.

Ganivet means knife. It is an early Germanic borrowing, cognate to the English word knife.

[nooj]

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[nooj]

One of the the things I hard to learn the hard way is that, just because the Balearic Islands (Mallorca and Menorca) and the Pitiüses (Eivissa and Formentera) are close to each other and grouped together dialectically does not mean that they are the same. Each island has a unique history. Despite the entire population of all the islands barely pushing over more than a million, with almost all of that in Mallorca, in that million resides much diversity. For comparison, Menorca only has 90,000 people living on it.

Each island community refers to itself as Mallorquins, Menorquins, Eivissencs, Formenterers, and their variety of Catalan as Mallorquí, Menorquí, Eivissenc, Formenterer. They do not call themselves 'Balears' and they don't appreciate being lumped together by outsiders.

Proof of the strong insular identity is that here, it is more common for people to remark to me 'ah, you speak Mallorquí' than to say 'ah, you speak Catalan'. They don't mean that I speak a different language, they remark that I am speaking THEIR variety of the language.

The map I posted shows great dialectical diversity on the mainland, but leaves absent the dialectical diversity you find on the islands.

Compare the word for boy.

In the Principate of Catalonia, the word for boy is nen.
In Mallorca, the word is nin.
In Menorca, it is fillet.
In Eivissa, it is boix.

You might find interesting what people here call Spaniards (i.e. foreigners).

Like I said before, Mallorcans call Spanish speakers from the mainland 'forasters', outsiders.
Eivissencs call Spanish speakers from the mainland 'murcianos', Murcians, probably because of some previous influx of immigrants from Murcia. It is a not meant to be a nice term.
It is also common to just refer to them as 'castellans', Castillians, even if they do not come from Castilla, but from Andalucia etc.

[nooj]

Did you know that the British conquered Menorca for about 80 years in the 18th century?

Because of Spanish or French oppression, Catalan literature is almost completely absent in this period, except for in Menorca. It was the British who allowed Menorcans to keep their language as official. Some of the greatest of all Catalan literature in theatre, poetry, narrative, comes from this short period.

The British interest on the island was wholly military, and so they allowed the Menorcan institutions and laws to stand (except for the Spanish Inquisition which they abolished). This might be the one time in world history that the British Empire actually had a positive impact on a place. The Menorcans supported the British in their wars against the Spanish and French crowns, and Menorcans today still consider this era to be the best in their history.

L'Imperi britànic va fer per Menorca en poc més de 70 anys el que Espanya no havia fet en 200 anys. Els anglesos van construir la primera carretera entre Maó i Ciutadella, la que avui rep el nom de camí d'en Kane; també van ajudar a comercialitzar el formatge de Maó, a més de perfeccionar-lo (gràcies al fet que van ser ells qui van introduir les vaques de raça frisona holandesa, i crearen la de raça menorquina amb l'ajuda local, és clar), aquests forans van aconseguir treure moltíssim profit al camp de Menorca, canviant per complet l'estil de ramaderia i agricultura illenca.

The British Empire did for Menorca in a little more than 70 years what Spain had not done in 200. The English created the first road between Maó and Ciutadalla, which today is called Kane's road (NB: named after Richard Kane, the first British governor of the island). They also helped to commercialise the Maó cheese, as well as perfect it, thanks to the fact that they introduced cows of the Dutch Frisian breed, and they created the cow of the Menorcan breed with local help), these outsiders managed to get much profit from the Menorcan fields, changing completely the island style of animal rearing and agriculture.

The material impact of the British is evident. Many houses in the Menorcan countryside are built in English style. So too the town of Es Castell (formerly known as Georgetown), close to Maó, which the British built and many of the buildings built there were done so in the British architectural style. This is the Town Hall for example:

[nooj]

En s'entrada d'avui, vull xerrar d'una cosa morfosintàctica que ocorre sovint a Mallorca i a altres bandes també, que té a veure amb sa combinació de pronoms febles. És un tema ja de per sí complicat, però ho esdevé encara més quan xerram de lo que pasa en sa vida real, o sigui, en tot lo que no és estàndard.

Quan an es pronom de complement directe, hi afegim un pronom de complement indirecte, s'efectuen qualcuns canvis.

1) Li donam una flor.
2) L'hi donam. (en valencià però, li la donem)

Li se converteix en hi en aquestes situacions, segons sa regla normativa. Perfecte, res de nou fins aquí.

Però què pasa quan fem servir es pronom en per substituir un complement objecte indefinit, alhora que va acompanyat des pronom de complement indirecte?

Es estàndard mos diu que hauríem de dir això:

3) Li'n donam (de flors).

Però a Mallorca i un poc per tot arreu (ho he sentit dir per un barceloní per exemple), molt sovint s'arriba a sentir aquesta combinació:

4) N'hi donam (de flors)

Es valencians però se queden amb li'n.

[nooj]

I've always had an interest in Galicia and Galician culture, it's time to really learn the language. I'm not content any longer to be on the sidelines looking in. I want to be a participant.

I use the textbooks and audio helpfully provided by the Xunta de Galicia (amazing!). This is the holy grail of language resources and for now I need nothing else. I've put in a couple of hours so far.

One time we were living in Madrid and our neighbours from across the hall invited us to a party they were throwing. Just knocked on our door and asked if we wanted to come. Anyway, they were Galicians. One of them worked in a business which required her to use her Galician to communicate with Brazilians and Portuguese. Which she would then transmit with her Spanish for clients in America and Spain.

Another time, at a music festival, me and my Brazilian friend met another guy who was Galician and I encouraged them to speak to each other in their respective languages. They were shy at first!

It is one thing to read that a Galician speaker can communicate with over 200 million people in the Lusofonia. It is a different experience to witness it first hand.

[Saim]

Ja sabeu que a jo m'interessa moltíssim es gascó, sa varietat de sa llengua occitana que se xerra a Gascunya i en una petita part de Catalunya, la Val d'Aran (com podeu veure en aquest mapa). Idò mirau, de vegades, me cauen entre ses mans coses que pareixen haver estat entregat pes cel, tan bé que encaixen amb sos meus interessos!

Interessos no porta accent, mentre que interés porta accent tancat.

A very catchy song about communal eating and living in a mix of Occitan, Hindi (?), Spanish. Anam manjar 'let's go eat' in Catalan would be anem a menjar.

It's clearly an Indo-Aryan language but it's definitely not Hindi (or Punjabi for that matter).

I've been sitting on this one for a while, because I wasn't sure what to say about it, but I read this blog entry today that represents very well what I think and why I am lightly critical:

Only lightly?

A Menorca, fan servir castellanismes a betzef.
In Menorca, they use tons of Spanish-isms.

Sounds familiar? بزاف !!!

Que guai!

És interessant que analitzin la /zz/ geminada de l'àrab magrebí com a equivalent de la /dz/ (cosa que d'altra banda té sentit quan considerem que en mallorquí la /ss/ geminada es realitza com a [ts]), i la [æ:] [(al·lòfon de /a:/) com a equivalent de la /ɛ/.

--

Cool!

It's interesting that the Maghrebi Arabic geminate /zz/ has been reanalysed as the equivalent of /dz/ (which makes sense when we consider the fact that in Majorcan the geminate /ss/ is realised as [ts]) and [æ:] (an allophone of /a:/) as the equivalent of /ɛ/.

Una critica, he de fer a qualquns grups occitans que interpreten a França- És que canten en occità i molt bé! S'ho passen molt bé. Però acabada sa canço, a sa audiència s'hi adrecen...en francès! Quin doi que cometen! És com si se sentissin empegüeits de sa seva llengua quan tenen a davant persones que no xerrin occità. Però si sa gent hi acudeix precisament per sentir occità! Si no entenen, no sou voltros que teniu sa culpa, sino ells. A més, quina mena de missatge els voleu transmetre amb aquest tipus de comportament? Que un cantant o un grup musical només faci servir sa llengua per cantar, però no per xerrar i fer brometes, fa que aquesta llengua se quedi an es marge des àmbit habitual, i això està molt malament. Es propòsit, justament, no era per renormalitzar-la?

There are Occitan groups in France who sing in Occitan...but when it comes to speaking to the audience, they speak to them in French! That's absurd. It's like they're ashamed of their language. Or afraid of not being understood. Listen mate, if they don't understand your language, it's not your fault, it's theirs. And what message are you sending? That this language is good for singing, but not for talking, making jokes etc? You are participating in the de-normalisation of the language.

(ca) Estic d'acord amb tu però cal entendre que l'aranès i el català tenen una intel·ligibilitat mutua altíssima, per tant no hi ha cap necessitat de passar-se al català. Òbviament hem de promoure l'ús de l'occità però és molt difícil de fer sense que hi hagi una adquisició prèvia més àmplia perquè el públic entengui els missatges.

(oc-Lengadocian) Soi d'acòrdi amb tu mas cal comprene que l'aranés e lo catalan an una inelligibilitat mutuala plan nauta, doncas es pas necessari de passar al catalan. Evidentament avèm besonh de promòure l'usatge de l'occitan mas aquò's plan dificil de far sens que i aja una aquisicion prealabla mai ampla per que los auditors comprengan los messatges.

(en) I agree but we need to keep in mind that Aranese and Catalan have extremely high mutual intelligibility, so it's not necessary to switch to Catalan. Of course we need to promote the use of Occitan but it's difficult to do without thinking about wider acquisition of the language beforehand so that the audience can understand what's being said.

[nooj]

The Galician language has been minoritised by Spanish speaking elites for centuries. Portugal escaped by becoming independent and taking a different path. Out of the shared Galician-Portuguese language, they made what we today know as Portuguese.

Galicians on the other hand is still under the Spanish crown. The vibrant Galician literature that inspired much of European vernacular literature, was silenced in favour of Spanish, and it would not be until the 19th century before Galicians started to write seriously in Galician again.

The practices of the literate elite did not touch the great majority of Galicians who lived a life based around agriculture, one that did not require reading or writing. At the beginning of the 20th century, the vast majority of Galicians spoke Galician. Since then, the decline in speakers has been brutal. as evidenced by the table showing the retreat of Galician over a 10 year period. For contemporary sociolinguistic data, see 'Lingua e sociedade en Galicia. Resumo de resultados 1992-2016' where we see a growing trend towards monolingualism over an 11 year period.




Even when the autonomous community of Galicia was created after the transition from dictatorship to democracy, and Galician became the co-official language of Galicia, the social status and social practices of the language built up over the past centuries did not change overnight. In fact, they still haven't changed in the eyes of many.

Popular prejudice sees Galician as typically belonging to the countryside. It is associated with poverty and backwardness. Spanish is the language of opportunity. This is the argument that Galician elites used in the 19th century when they betrayed their language. The problem is that now many middle-class and lower-class Galicians have swallowed the argument. As a result, if you go to Galicia today, Spanish dominates in the major cities and urban centres. Daily, normal use and knowledge of Galician can best be found in the rural areas, although there are urban pockets as well of Galician activists.

This is a somewhat inaccurate, but humorous comic strip that pretends to show the sociolinguistic profile of Galicians.



There is the young, urban professional that is politically conscious and votes for Galician nationalist parties. She uses Galician all the time.

There is the old, rural, conservative person who consistently votes for Partido Popular, the right wing party that is inexplicably still governing Galicia and has presided over this long period of retreat for Galician ever since the return of democracy. They use Galician all the time out of habit, except with their grandchildren of course, further helping to kill the language.

The third is the average urban citizen who doesn't care, or whose lack of passion condemns the language to a slow death, just as well as those Spanish nationalists who actively try to destroy her language. She has it in her power to save her language...but she doesn't.

[nooj]

Avui he dinat amb una mallorquina i sa seva familia. Abans però me va dur pes seu poble, a Cala de Figueres, avon ha crescut i viscut tota sa vida. Hem fet una passejada pes poble, en s'estiu deu estar petat amb gent, però avui, ja que és temporada baixa i feia fred, no hi havia gaire gent. Ella me va dir que tenia una cosa que volia mostrar-me, un tresor des seu poble. De manera que pujàvem cap amunt, a un penya-segat. Un poc més a baix hi havia un mirador, però se veia millor d'una posició que ella coneixia. Allà a dalt aquesta vista mos esperava.



Jo he quedat com bocabadat. No és cap secret que a jo m'encanta s'escalada, i de jove vaig veure un video de Chris Sharma, un escalador americà molt famós, fent escalada aquí mateix. I se me va grava a sa memoria des de llavonses. Sempre he volgut venir aquí però amb so pas de temps, aquest somni s'ha anat arraconant a un indret oblidat des cervell.

Però per casualitat o gràcies a un ajut diví, avui m'he topat amb 'es Pontàs'. Es un somni realitzat, un cercle ja complert.



Today I had lunch with a Mallorcan friend who showed me her town and where she grew up. She also wanted to show me a 'secret' of her town she said and brought me to a cliff. I was shocked, because I had seen this place many years before in a climbing video. I love rock climbing and ever since then it was a place that I always dreamed about going to. But I had gradually forgotten about it and I hadn't even thought about it since coming to Mallorca. Now here I am, a dream fulfilled.

Mallorca és reconeguda pes estil d'escalada que se practica aquí, en diuen 'psicobloc'. Se diferencia de s'escalada, diguéssim més normal, perque es escaladors se desfan des arnès i de sa corda que acostumen a fer servir. Enlloc de tot això, aquells que practiquen psicobloc confien en s'aigo com a seguretat. Si caus, caus a s'aigo, que serveix de protecció. Tot i així, si caus maldestrement, amb cap avall per exemple o amb s'esquena exposada, pots fer-te molt de mal. Fins i tot, qualcuns escaladors se n'han mort. N'hi ha que s'han ofegat, n'hi ha que ses ones els han empenyat contra ses roques...però ningú mai ha dit que s'escalada fos un esport del tot segur.

[nooj]

A poem by Galician poet Celso Emilio Ferreiro, put into song by the Galician rappers Dios Ke Te Crew.

Lingoa proletaria do meu pobo
eu fáloa porque sí, porque me gosta,
porque me peta e quero e dame a gaña;
porque me sai de dentro, alá do fondo
de unha tristura aceda que me abrangue
ao ver tantos patufos desleigados,
pequenos mequetrefes sin raíces
que ao pór a garabata xa non saben
afirmarse no amor dos devanceiros,
falar a fala nai,
a fala dos abós que temos mortos,
e ser, co rostro erguido,
mariñeiros, labregos do lingoaxe,
remo i arado, proa e rella sempre.

The proletarian language of my people
I speak it because why not, because I like it,
Because I feel like it, and I want to, and I wanna
Because it comes from inside back there,
From an acidic sadness that embraces me,
When I see so many denatured idiots,
Little good for nothings without roots
Who put on a tie and then don't know
How to be strengthened in the love of their ancestors
How to speak the mother tongue
The tongue of dead grandparents
Who don't know how to be, with the head raised high
Sailors, workers of the Language,
Oar and plow, prow and plowshare forever.

Eu fáloa porque sí, porque me gosta
e quero estar cos meus, coa xente miña,
perto dos homes bós que sofren longo
unha historia contada en outra lingoa.
Non falo pra os soberbios,
non falo pra os ruís e poderosos,
non falo pra os finchados,
non falo pra os estúpidos,
non falo pra os baleiros,
que falo pra os que agoantan rexamente
mentiras e inxusticias de cotío;
pra os que súan e choran
un pranto cotidián de volvoretas,
de lume e vento sobre os ollos núos.
Eu non podo arredar as miñas verbas
de todos os que sofren neste mundo.
E ti vives no mundo, terra miña,
berce da miña estirpe,
Galicia, doce mágoa das Españas,
deitada frente ao mar, ise camiño

I speak it because why not, because I like it
and I want to be with my own, with my people
Close to good men who suffer at length
A history told in another language.
I don't speak for the arrogant
I don't speak for the miserly and powerful
I don't speak for the vain
I don't speak for the stupid
I don't speak for the empty
Because I speak for those who withstand fiercely
Lies and injustices everyday.
I speak for those who sweat and weep
A daily lament of butterflies
Of fire and wind on naked eyes
I can't deprive my words
From all those who suffer in this world.
And you my land, live in the world
Cradle of my progeny
Galicia, sweet pain of my Spain
Stretching out to the sea, that Camino...